


Stiles

by chadleymacguff



Series: PELTS [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Character Development, Drug Use, F/M, Friendship, Loss, M/M, Profanity, suggested sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 06:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chadleymacguff/pseuds/chadleymacguff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He cracked open the case and pulled out a something wrapped in thin white paper. It was his morning ritual. Wake and bake. It was the only way he was going to make it through the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stiles

**Author's Note:**

> SPECIAL THANKS to my beta Reyne (stereks) as always. Love ya girl!  
> With this new series I wanted to incorporate the idea of fanmixes, so each chapter that I write will have it's own fanmix/playlist fashion specifically for this chapter. The music is meant to accompany the piece and is open to interpretation as far as how you see it fitting into the story line. [Stiles](http://www.mediafire.com/?bxp49xzo06p9678)

The buzzing of his alarm clock was something he dreaded hearing every morning, today especially. It was the first day back to school. Sure he was going to be a senior this year but he still didn’t want to go.

Stiles smacked the off switch and shoved the comforter off of him. He rubbed him eyes with a cough. Thankfully his date hadn’t come into his room yet to open the blinds. That usually meant that he was running late and he needed to get a move on if he was going to make it on time. He wasn’t sure why his dad would still do things like that, like he was still a child.

That’s when he heard the soft knock on the door.

“Stiles! You need to get up and ready if you’re going make it to first period.”

“I’m already up! Fuck off!”

He heard a loud sigh before the man’s footsteps trailed off down the hallway. His dad was a cop, Sheriff to be accurate. Stiles pretty much got away with whatever trouble he would get into because he dad could get him off. It was actually amazing the stuff he’d gotten away with.

Stiles scratched his head and shuffled his feet across the carpet. He made his way over to the window pulling up the blind. The unsnapped the locks and lifted the frame. Stiles opened his top drawer, rummaging around until he found a small silver case with a flower on it. It used to be his mother’s. She wasn’t a smoker he she kept it around anyway.

He cracked open the case and pulled out a something wrapped in thin white paper. It was his morning ritual. Wake and bake. It was the only way he was going to make it through the day. He lit the joint and taking a long drag. Holding in the smoke, he looked out the window at all of the people leaving for work. He blew the smoke out into the open air, taking a seat on the window sill. It was cold against his bare skin but he didn’t really mind.

Stiles could see his dad exiting the front door and making his way over to his cruiser. He opened the driver side door and then noticed his son in the window. The Sheriff shot Stiles a look.

“At least I opened the window this time!” He shouted down to him.

He simply rolled his eyes and got into his vehicle. As he backed out of the driveway Stiles waved goodbye, flicking him off as soon as he was a safe enough distance way no to see him. Stiles took another drag before stamping the joint out on the roof and flicking it into the trees.

He turned towards his closet, a warm breeze blowing through him as it pricked against his skin.

“Today is going to suck ass.”

Stiles put on a pair of black shades and punched the play button on his stereo. He spun around a few times to the beat, pulling on a pair on underwear he found on his floor, no doubt from the previous night. It didn’t really matter. At this point it wasn’t like he really needed to impress anyone at school so it didn’t make a difference what he wore. He pulled a dingy t-shirt over his head with a plaid shirt he’d worn a million times over it. He snapped his head from side to side looking for his pants, finally finding them balled up on the floor under his book bag. His phone and keys were still in the pockets. Stiles was putting one his shoes when he heard the familiar tone of a new text message. He didn’t see who it was from, just the message attached.

**HAD FUN LAST NIGHT. DO IT AGAIN SOMETIME?**

Stiles smiled to himself, bolting out the front door to his jeep. He pulled into the school parking lot about twenty minutes before class. He usually go to school around the same time, it was just enough time to get another smoke in before first period.

Stiles slammed his door shut and sat on top of his hood. Isaac pulled up next to him. The screech of his bike brakes made Stiles cringe.

“I don’t get why you won’t let me just give you a ride to school, I mean I drive you home anyway.”

Isaac shrugged.

“It gives me a chance to get in some exercise. Don’t want to get all funhouse mirror.”

Stiles chuckled. He opened the trunk for Isaac to toss his bike in the back. Stiles closed the trunk in a swift motion and turned to Isaac, closing the distance so he could whisper to him.

“Did you get the stuff?”

Isaac smiled wide. He pulled his bag off of his back to open the front zipper revealing a Ziploc of shrooms.

“Nice! So what do you think? Skip out about fifth period?”

“You burnouts already talking about skipping classes?”

The boys looked over to find the origin of the disembodied voice. It was Jackson, resident asshole and co-captain of the lacrosse team.

“You dumbasses are going to flunk your way out of ticket to university and be here again next year with all of the other losers. Which isn’t really a surprise. I mean just look at the way you two dress or that piece of shit clunker you drive around in.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed at Jackson’s smug smile accompanied with a condescending laugh. He felt a hand pressed on his chest holding him back from punching the dick right in the face. It was Stiles. He was always the more level headed of the two of them. Isaac could hear Stiles clearing his throat, wading up a loogie to spit down at Jackson’s feet. He stepped back a little looking down at what he’d done.

“You know what’s funny? The fact that me and Isaac skip more classes than we attend and still have a higher grade point average than you do. I guess all that pussy or jock status that you score can’t make you smarter. But who knows, maybe you’ll luck out and get your first A or actually get this piece of shit team a championship trophy and score yourself a scholarship. You’ll sit around in your fancy clothes and nice house and think about how none of that will ever makeup for the fact that your parents are dead and you don’t know how to live with yourself.”

Jackson’s jaw hung open for a moment. Stiles could practically hear the gears in his head turning, looking for a witty retort to combat the verbal smack down he’d just received. Stiles raised an eyebrow with a smirk, egging him on to say something back, almost daring him.

He clenched his jaw and turned his back to the two, storming off in a huff.

“Jeez man,” Isaac said through a laugh. “That was kind of harsh.”

Stiles shrugged.

“Who cares? He’ll bounce back in like five minutes. Guy’s got a pretty tough skin.”

The boys finished their morning smoke and sauntered into the building. They passed familiar faces before stopping at their lockers to store their bags of narcotics. Isaac closed the metal door just in time for Danny to plant a kiss right on his lips. It caught him by surprise. He struggled to keep his balance, trying not to topple over into Stiles who looked at the two of him in amusement. Isaac wrapped an arm around his waist to spin their bodies, balancing out their weight.

Danny pulled back with a loud smack and gave Stiles a huge hug. Stiles felt like he was being crushed. Danny was unusually strong. He was like a bear trying to squeeze the life out of an enemy. Stiles felt his feet lift off the ground.

“Danny put me down!”

The boy complied. They hadn’t seen Danny all summer. He was off vacationing with his family god knows where. The Mahealani’s were the kind of family that would take trips every summer and with Danny being their only child, they really only had one person to spend all their money on.

“What is up guys? You stoners keeping out of trouble?”

“You know that’s not our style.” Isaac said hooking his arm around Danny’s neck. “What’s with the hat?”

“Don’t you love it?!”

He pulled himself out of his grip to he could model his outfit.

“I got this whole outfit from New York.”

Danny was wearing a tight long sleeve blue v-neck and black straight leg skinny jeans with matching boots and black suspenders. All topped with a bowler hat. He had his sleeves pulled up three fourth’s the way up his arm to show off his designer watch, which was no doubt Armani like most of his high end clothing.

“Looking good hot stuff!” Lydia shouted.

She smacked his ass as she walked by, giving him a wink.

“See you in my dream tonight Lydia!”

Lydia always ignored Stiles so he was used to it. He wasn’t all that interested in her attention anymore, unlike most boys in the school. Stiles could admit that at one point she was the object of his obsession but now he didn’t even think twice about her. Something about her dating Jackson really just turned him off. Like her stock diminished the moment they became official.

“So you assholes going to the party this weekend?”

Danny bounced his shoulders, leaning himself into Isaac.

“How is it that you’ve been back all of one day and you already know about the parties going on in town?”

Danny gave him a modest shrug, followed by a smile. Stiles was always amazed at how good Danny was at finding out information. He did have to admit that his talent was beneficial to have around when trying to _unwind_.

“Yeah.” Isaac answered cutting off Stiles’ train of thought.

“Excellent! See you dorks at lunch.” He took a few steps forward. “Well, knowing you two I’ll just see you later.”

Stiles, Danny and Isaac had been since freshman year. They were all in the same Phys Ed. Class and hated participating. Sometime while they were supposed to be running the mile, the three of them snuck under the bleachers to indulge in own activities. Long story short, coach Finstock caught them smoking and gave them all detention. They’d been inseparable ever since. It was weird how something as simple as that would cement a friendship but it was something that Stiles really needed at that point in his life.

Stiles could see someone staring at him and Isaac out of the corner of his eye. He rolled his eyes, slamming his locker closed. It was Scott McCall. Stiles motioned a thumb gesture for Isaac to follow him down the hallway, giving Scott the finger as he walked by.

Isaac met Stiles by his car in the parking lot. The parking security cycled around at about a quarter after every day. Stiles had pinpointed the exact moment every day when the guard would deck out for a quick smoke when he thought that no one was looking. Skipping out on half days’ worth of classes had become somewhat of his favorite pastime. Sometimes he would be by himself so he’d just go home early and catch up on some much needed sleep and sometimes Isaac would join him.

This being one of those times where he had his partner in crime, the two boys scurried across the lot to his jeep like stray cats. No matter how well a plan would be thought out there was always that unforeseen variable that could throw them off. Today they were lucky enough to pull out of the space and get down the street unnoticed.

“Where are we off to Captain?”

Isaac had the tendency to refer to Stile sin this manner, as if he were simply along for the ride.

“Argh! We’re off to me captain’s quarters.”

He tried his best to do a convincing pirate accent with a straight face but it always ended in the two of them laughing. They would often just go back to Stiles’ house. No one was ever home since I was just him and his dad, and being that his dad was the Sheriff he was often out until late.

Today wasn’t any different from any other day the boys skipped. Stiles would pull into the driveway and kill the engine. Isaac would pull his bike out of the back and rest it up against the garage. The two would go in the back door because it was always unlocked and if Stiles were being honest, he just preferred going that way. They’d spend about an hour in the kitchen rummaging around for food like scavengers until each of them had gotten their fill and ventured upstairs.

Isaac pulled the plastic bag out tossing it onto the bed. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips.

“Prepare for blastoff.”

Stiles mimicked the sound of a rocket launching, popping a few mushrooms into his mouth.

“Yuck! These things taste like ass.”

“Well what did you expect they’re grown in cow shit.”

Isaac chuckled shoving a fistful in his mouth.

+++

Stiles could hear footsteps coming up the stairs but at this point he was on another planet. He could hear the boots echo throughout the hallway, the sounded resembled thunder in the night sky. Stiles could recall nights when he would crawl into his parent’s bed. He couldn’t have been any older than six, he remembers because it was two years before his mom was diagnosed. She was so happy and full of life. Her vibrant smile could brighten up a room. It always made him smile.

The footsteps stopped in front of his door, the tumblers clicking out of place as the knob turned. It made the loudest noise, like a roaring in his ears. It was deafening.

Sheriff Stilinski swung the door open and walked into the room. Isaac was sprawled across the bed, while Stiles was draped over the chair. He rotated that seat to take in the sight of his father standing on the ceiling.

“What are you doing here Stiles? Shouldn’t you still be in school?”

He blinked slowly at the man with his mouth agape.

“How did you get on the ceiling?”

The Sheriff rolled his eyes before surveying the room for whatever the boys were clearly on. He walked over a few feet to find a Ziploc of mushrooms poking out from under the bed.

“Really Stiles? You know I arrest people for stuff like this all the time.”

Stiles kicked his shoe against the desk twirling himself around.

“Step off padre. You’re killing my buzz here.”

Sheriff Stilinski could see that this argument was feudal at this point. He threw his hands up in defeat and made his way to the door. Before he could close the door, Stiles popped his head up in inquiry.

“Wait. What are you doing home so early?”

A look of disbelief crossed over his father’s face. He could see him looking at him as if he were of a different breed. He was looking at Stiles as if he couldn’t believe that this was his son, what he’d become.

“I told you Monday at dinner that I was cleaning out your mother’s old stuff. Some people from the church are coming over the collect the boxes of her clothes for charity.”

He stepped further into the hallway before turning back in.

“If you’re going to pick out anything, now would be the time.”

He didn’t slam the door, just closed it with more force than Stiles was expecting. So much that it made Stiles jump. Maybe it was the drugs but, Stiles didn’t want to look in those old ratty boxes. He’d walked past them a million times every day but could never bring himself to look inside. To see all of the dresses and hats and outfits that she used to wear, he just couldn’t breathe.

There was one time. It had been about eight months since her funeral and his dad was sending him to grief counseling or therapy or whatever. It didn’t matter. Point is he was forced to go. The counselor suggested that he confront his issue head on and go through her things. Stiles could remember everything about that night. His dad was working late on some case with a double homicide. It was the biggest the county had seen in the last three years and everyone was on duty trying to find the guy that did it. He remembers that it was raining. That the trees were scratching against the windows in the wind. He could remember standing in the doorway. Just staring, staring at the boxes that sat on the floor in her old sewing room, just collecting dust. No matter how long he stood or sat or lay there looking, he couldn’t do it. He remembered his dad coming in around midnight and finding him curled up in the doorway at the top of the stairs. Stiles remembered a lot. Like how the Sheriff picked him up and carried him to his room, even though he was too old and too big for it. He remembers him stroking his head while he cried into his pillow, confessing how much he missed her. How he would give anything to have her back, just for an hour. Stiles can remember the Sheriff kissing the top of his head and a tear drop falling on his cheek as he muttered the words, ‘I miss her too’. That was the last time the two of them ever talked like that again. Even if Stiles wouldn’t admit it, he really missed being able to talk to his dad.

It took Isaac about an hour after the Sheriff left them alone to realize what time it was and that he needed to be getting home. Stiles always told him that he had this compulsive urge to be places super early when he was high. Mr. Lahey usually got home between five and six. But it wasn’t anything Stiles wasn’t used.

Isaac grabbed his bag and tossed it over his shoulder. He wobbled a bit over to the door before getting his ‘sea legs’ as he put it. Isaac said something that Stiles couldn’t make out before leaving. He had to assume it was something along the lines of ‘see you tomorrow’ because he smiled and waved before closing the door.

An hour or so passed and Stiles was finally starting to get some feeling back in his face. Something in his mixing of drugs had made his whole body numb, so it was good that he was starting to get some feeling back. He meandered his way down the stairs to the kitchen. The cold air from the fridge hitting his face was nice. Stiles was so lost in the arctic wind blowing on his face, he didn’t hear he dad enter the room.

“You mind not letting all the air out. I’d like the food not to spoil.”

Stiles pulled out the milk and snapped the door closed, turning on the balls of his feet to face his father. He was wearing dress pants and a button up dress shirt.

“Where are you going dressed up so nice?”

His words were garbled between swigs from the jug.

“Why can’t you use a cup like a normal person?”

Stiles shrugged, gesturing for him to answer his question. The Sheriff let out a sigh.

“I have a date. With a very nice woman.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and walked out of the room.

“I don’t want to find you up watching tv when I get home!” He shouted after him.

Stiles flicked him off as he walked up the stairs.

“I’ll do what the fuck I want.”

Stiles didn’t really do much when he got back up to his room. He heard his dad leave and just lay in the darkness for a few hours until he nodded off the sleep.

His body jerked at the sound of the car door slamming. He looked over at the digital numbers that read 11:35. It was late, well late for his dad to be out. That’s when he heard a second door slam. He was clearly bringing whoever this woman was over. He knew that his dad had started dating over the past year but none of them seemed to stick. Stiles liked to think that it was deep down he knew that none of them could compare to his mother, to the woman that he’d married and had to bury before her time.

Stiles heard them come up the stairs and make their way into his room, giggling the entire way there. Thankfully, once they closed the door he couldn’t hear them anymore. His father’s room was almost on the opposite end of the house adjacent to his room but he wasn’t willing to take that chance. He cranked up his music so shoved in his earbuds.

+++

Needless to say Stiles didn’t make it to school the following day. His dad didn’t bother to wake him. He woke up to silence, the battery on his phone died hours ago. It was closer to noon than the usual 6AM that he usually got up at. He planted his feet on the floor, scratching and stretching off what sleep was left in his body.

He plugged in his phone and was assaulted with a barrage of text messages, mostly from Danny. He was asking where he was and if he was still going to the party. He replied back with a simple yes and got up to take a shower.

Stiles always liked taking showers when no one else was in the house. There was no one else around to judge him for the noises he’d make; his gasping sobs masked by the hum of the showerhead, tears that would roll from his face and down the drain without a trace. It was the only place that he could let it all out and be alone. In a town like Beacon Hills, there was always someone looking when you thought you were alone. Even if they wouldn’t say anything or acknowledge your presence, someone was always around. Showers were almost cathartic.

He made his way down the hall in his towel, his room door open. Stiles didn’t remember leaving it open but it was possible he did, he was half asleep when he went to the bathroom.

“AH! Oh my god! What the hell!”

It was his dad. He was just sitting on his bed twiddling with his thumbs, waiting for Stiles to come back.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack? God! What do you want?”

His eyes were fixed on some invisible point that seemed to be under the carpet, maybe even under the floorboards.

“The woman that I’ve been dating…”

“Yeah, what about her?”

Stiles turned his back to look through his dresser for something to throw on, finally settling on a pair of old gym shorts from middle school. He usually wore them as shorts but they could double as underwear.

“I’m thinking of asking her to move in with us.”

Stiles stopped for half a second before going back to movements.

“Why are you telling me now? I haven’t even met whoever this person is. It’s not like you really care about my opinion or something.”

Mr. Stilinski stood up and walked over towards the door.

“That’s because you’ve already met her. It’s Ms. McCall. Her and Scott are going to be moving in. Hopefully soon.”

“So you already asked her and I was an afterthought.”

Stiles shoved a few hangers from one side of the closet to the other.

“I don’t care dad. Do what you want. You’re going to do it anyway no matter what I say, like you always do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Forget it.”

His voice was low and monotone. There was a layer of hurt under his words. He was hoping that his dad couldn’t hear it.

“So are we done here? I have shit to do.”

The Sheriff just nodded in the vary way that he’d become accustomed to doing and stepped through the door frame. Stiles waited until he was out of earshot to grab his phone and punched in the numbers.

“Hey, are you free right now?”

+++

Stiles typically picked up Erica at her house and they’d ride somewhere, smoke a bit, fuck and then smoke again before he’d drop her back off. It was a casual thing. In all honesty, Stiles only called her whenever he needed to blow off some steam. Erica was VERY good at relieving pressure.

She was standing by her mailbox smoking a cigarette when he pulled up. She was wearing her leather jacket, some tight skirt with stockings or tights with some kind of design on them. Stiles could figure out what it was but that wasn’t what he cared about, he was looking at her top. It was some sparkly silver number that hugged in all the right places. Something that would catch any guys eye, well any guy with a pulse that led down to his dick at least.

Erica hopped into the front seat with a smile. Her lips ruby red and teeth gleaming white. Stiles couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes sparkled in the light. It was at the perfect angle to reflect the different hues of her hazel eyes, the deep honey and specs of gold that hid underneath.

“Hey Stiles.”

She said smacking her gum. That was a drawback to Erica. She was always chewing on some kind of gum. It was a wonder her teeth were so nice. Stiles asked her once before if she had some kind of oral fixation, but that only ended in them horizontal. Most of their conversations ended with them getting horizontal. Erica was never too interested in conversation, just sex. It always made Stiles feel a little better about only calling her when he wanted something.

“So what time is the party?”

Erica flipped down the mirror, checking her eyeliner for any imperfections. It was never necessary. It had to be some kind of nervous tick.

“The party is at seven so that gives us like an hour.”

“Oh that’s plenty of time.”

Erica grabbed his thigh making Stiles jump. He shifted into drive and peeled out down the street.

+++

This party was deep in the woods. Some college students had found some cave that was abandoned a couple of years back. Now they just used it for huge parties. It was perfect location, far out from the rest of the town so no one would have to call the cops. They’d trek in all the supplies and generators they needed and charge about ten bucks a head for all the beer and alcohol. No one was quite sure of whom the organizer was, it was always so underground.

Stiles popped over his door almost falling over himself. He pulled his pants up, securing his belt in place. His shirt was still in some bizarre angle over his head that he wasn’t sure was possible. Erica opened her door jumping out feet first, the leaves crunching under the boots. She tugged down her skirt and reapplied her lipstick.

“Come find me later.”

He just nodded with what little energy he had left. Stiles knocked the back of his head against his jeep, catching his breath.

It was a wonder how Stiles had gotten to this point in his life. The down the rabbit hole effect a few choices had on him. If you would have asked him five years ago if he would have just had sex with a beautiful blonde outside of a forest rave, he would have told you not in a million years.

Stiles spotted Isaac and Danny immediately. It was like they were waiting by the entrance just for him to show up.

“Hey guys what’s—“

“Why are your cheeks so flushed?” Danny asked cutting him off.

Danny was a straight shooter. It was something Stiles liked about him.

“Uh, well…”

“Don’t want to know.”

Danny pulled out a tiny piece of paper and slapped it into Stiles’ hand and disappeared into the crowd. Stiles looked at Isaac confused. Isaac simply shrugged back at him.

He opened the parchment to find about four hits of acid.

“Ho shit!”

Isaac pressed one onto his tongue, grabbing Stiles’ hand to drag him into the crowd. In the midst of it all the music was blaring. The loud thumping seemed to vibrate through his body. He instantly spotted Lydia and Jackson dancing about ten feet away from them, Danny a few people over grinding up against some guy that he’d no doubt just met.

Stiles could see someone next to Danny that looked a bit out of place. He wasn’t dancing all that much but was still moving with the motion of the crowd. Something about him looked familiar, like they’d met somewhere before. His rugged features would have been hard to forget. Stiles didn’t know many people with facial hair other than parents and teachers and he was far too young to be either.

“Hey Isaac,” His voice a loud whisper. “Who is that? He looks familiar.”

Isaac narrowed his eyes to zero in on who he was talking about.

“Oh! Him?”

Stiles nodded vigorously.

“That’s Derek. You remember? Allison’s ex-boyfriend. They dated for like eight months or something last year. He’s like in college or something.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow in interest. He tugged at Isaac’s hand for him to follow his lead. The two of them made their way to Danny, dancing and grinding to the rhythm. They always danced like this, it was fun. None of them really cared what other people thought of them.

 “Oh I’m sorry.”

Stiles wasn’t one for apologizing when bumping into someone. He was the type to snap back ‘watch were you were going’, but this was his fault.

Derek just nodded with a polite smile, going back to his small movements back and forth. Something about the rigid way he moved his body just seemed off the Stiles.

“You need to loosen up!” He shouted in his ear.

“I don’t know if I get much looser than this.”

Derek shrugged back at him with a weak smile. It was the kind of smile that redirected blame, saying, I’m innocent.

Stiles put the last two sheets of acid in mouth and grabbed Derek by his ears pressing their lips together. Making sure their tongues passed over each other. He pulled back with a smile to take in the sight of a confused Derek.

“What was that?”

“I’m helping you loosen up!”

The music changed to some heavy house music that demanded the movement of every able body on the floor. Stiles watched the tense body in front of him uncoil, circling around him, Isaac and Danny with enthusiasm.

Before long the party was over and everyone was heading out and back into town to sleep the evening off. Isaac and Danny left Stiles a good hour before everyone else. Erica caught a ride back with Lydia, leaving him alone with Derek. The two of them exchanged a few words that Stiles would never remember sober before going their separate ways.

Stiles was dreading going home. He’d forgotten all about what would be waiting back there, his Dad and possibly his new girlfriend Ms. McCall. If there was some kind of all-powerful deity up there and they were feeling generous, Stiles would get home to an empty house.

+++

It took about a week for the McCall’s the move in and take over his house. They seemed to have moved in almost overnight. Ms. McCall took to sleeping in his father’s room, while Scott moved into the room down the hall. Stiles tried his best not to make contact with anyone. He’d leave early and come home extra late if even at all just to avoid everyone.

Somehow, the Sheriff caught him in between his usual shifts of being out and talked him into coming to what he called ‘family dinner’. Stiles didn’t think of the McCall’s as family. They were parasites. They’d infested his home and were gaining control over everything. That really pissed him off.

Stiles didn’t want to go but he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. He did have a choice in how he’d attend the event. This evening drink of choice was a bottle of Jack Daniels. He poured another shot down his throat before fumbling down the stairs to the dinner table where everyone else was waiting for him.

“How nice of you to join us Stiles.”

Stiles loved sarcasm but it didn’t suit his father. It came off as condescending and a bit brash. He couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how he sounded to other people.

He twirled a finger in the motion of a circle, giving him a phony smile that anyone could see through. Stiles looked down at the meal on that plate in front of him. It didn’t look bad but it didn’t look all that great either. Stiles had forgotten that Ms. McCall was a fan of casserole.

“Should we say grace?” She asked meekly from across the table.

Stiles snorted.

“No one in this house believes in god. Even if we did, it’s not like he’s listening.”

He picked up a fork and started picking apart what was staring back at him on the plate. There was a silence that was only filled by the scraping of forks on dishware for a good ten minutes. Stiles had to assume the McCall’s brought the dishes. It didn’t look like any of the patterns that they owned. He was starting to think that maybe his dad had gotten rid of his mother’s favorite china like he’d gotten rid of everything else. Stiles could feel his jaw pop as his teeth pressed together in irritation.

Dinner conversation picked up with Stiles’ increased silence. He was content in just suffering in silence until he could finally just get the hell away from these people. Keeping quiet was becoming increasingly difficult the more Scott talked about how they used to play together and it would be like old times. He just gushed on and on about how cool it was going to be to have a brother. What really pushed him over the edge was when the Sheriff talked about cleaning out the sewing room for Ms. McCall’s workout equipment.

“NO! Fuck that! I won’t you get rid of every little thing we have left of her!”

“Stiles…”

Stiles ignored his father’s protest.

“You bring these people in here and act like we’re one big happy family. NEWSFLASH! No matter how many shitty dinners she cooks or stupid stories from forever ago or how many times you force us to interact, they will never be my family.”

The Sheriff wiped the corners of his mouth, throwing the napkin onto the plate in frustration.

“Stiles, I think I’ve been more than accommodating in this transitional phase that you’ve been having. But it’s been over five years, you need to get over it and move on like I have.”

“You’ve thrown her away like garbage!” He spat back. “You don’t even wear your wedding ring anymore.”

His breathing became more erratic. Stiles swept his plate off of the table, the loud crash of breaking glass following.

“Get out.” He said calmly. “Get out of this house.”

“Gladly.” He huffed.

+++

His keys jiggled back and forth as he pulled into the parking space. He wasn’t really sure where he was. It looked like it might be a park, but most of the town looked like a national park, so that wasn’t very helpful. He could see a convenience store a little ways down the street. Stiles hopped out onto the concrete and walked into the store.

He walked out with a couple of bags of chips, a microwave burrito and two gatorade’s.

“Hungry?”

He head snapped in the direction of the voice, the wrapper of the burrito tucked tightly between his teeth so not to fall.

“Uh, yeah.”

He said dropping the wrapper into the bag and taking a big bite. Stiles could hear Derek chuckle under his breath.

“What’s so funny?” He asked with his mouth full of food.

“You.”

Stiles just shrugged and finished eating.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

Derek looked around realizing that it was a strange location to randomly run into someone.

“I was jogging. I usually run this route because I don’t run into people I know.”

“I guess I ruined that huh.”

Stiles gave him a sly smile. The two of them seemed to be doing a dance that neither of them noticed. Whenever Derek would move slightly closer, Stiles would step back and vice versa. They’d walked a good deal down the street, sharing idle chit chat. Mostly it was just Derek telling Stiles how all of the food that he’d been hovering into his mouth was bad for him.

“So I wanted to apologize to you.”

Derek looked at him confused.

“For what?”

“For the other night. That whole sticking my tongue down your throat thing. That’s not me. Well, it IS me, but I usually don’t do that to people that I first meet.”

“Oh. That.”

His face was a bit flushed so he tried to direct his gaze downward.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I swear I’m usually not that forward.”

Stiles scratched the back of his head, scrunching his nose to make a face.

“Forward isn’t always bad.”

It was kind of quiet for a while. Stiles crunched on chips trying to kill the awkward that he seemed to have created. He reached into his hoodie and pulled out his cigarette case.

“Is that…”

“A joint? Yeah. Calm down. I share.”

“No, not that. On your case, is that wolfsbane?”

Stiles looked at him in disbelief.

“Yeah. That’s the first time anyone’s ever recognized it.”

Stiles handed it to Derek so that he could get a closer look. His eye intently watching to make sure he didn’t tarnish it in anyway.

“It was the last thing my mother gave me before she died.”

Derek handed the case back to him. He was at a loss for words.

“Yeah people tend to clam up whenever I talk about it.”

He blew the smoke out, watching it dance in circles to create a cloud before dispersing into the air.

“Here. She’ll have been dead six years next month. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one that even gives a shit anymore.”

“Why do you say that?”

Stiles shrugged. His jaw tensing, he wet his lips to reply.

“My dad is just giving all of her shit away and he moved his girlfriend and her son into our house without even asking me what I thought about it. He doesn’t even talk about her anymore. He doesn’t even wear his ring anymore.”

Derek was silent. He was trying to pick his words carefully, so as not to offend.

“Can I be honest with you for a minute?”

Stiles took a long drag before answering.

“Shoot.”

“I think you need to maybe move on.”

Stiles snapped this head to look him the eyes.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

+++

Stiles hated admitting when anyone was right about anything. Lucky for him, he didn’t have to actually tell Derek that he was right.

He had to admit that it was a bit freeing to let go of all of the hostility and anger and resentment that he’d been harboring for so long. For the longest time he hated his dad for not talking about it. For pretending as if she never existed.

Stiles just assumed that the Sheriff didn’t care or had forgotten all about his mother but he couldn’t have been more wrong. He looked at the wedding ring that his father had given him no more than twenty minutes before.

\---

When Stiles had come in, he had fully intended to lay into his father but was caught off guard by the small box that he placed on the table. It looked like one of those Tiffany’s boxes from the movies that all of the girls would go crazy over.

“What the hell is this?”

“Stiles, just open it and stop being such a little shit.”

Mr. Stilinski never cursed at Stiles, not once in the seventeen years he’d been alive. Which was surprising considering all of the things he’d put him through over the last few years.

Stiles opened the box to find a white gold band, surrounded by an assortment of diamonds that accentuated the biggest in the center. There was something familiar about it but Stiles couldn’t place where he’d seen it before. He moved the box back in forth in his hand, letting the light flick and gleam in and over of the crevices.

“It was your mothers.”

That’s where he’d seen it, on his mother’s slender finger. How could he have forgotten? He had to have seen it a million times, touch it a million more when he held her hand in the hospital to give her some semblance of comfort in her final hours. The last time he’d seen it was at her funeral. He distinctly remembers his grandmother saying something about how lovely his mother looked in the minimal amount of jewelry. She was definitely wearing it when they closed the casket, so how was he looking at it now?

“Before they took her to the cemetery, I snuck it off of her finger.”

Stiles could hear what sounded like a smile in his voice but he couldn’t look up to meet his eyes. He just listened to his words. They seemed to echo in his head.

“You’re probably thinking that I held onto it for some shallow reason but did I ever tell you the story behind that ring? When I first proposed to your mother, I had the hardest time finding something that really symbolized how much I loved her, something that captured my admiration and her beauty. Finally I just gave up and had your mother pick something out but she couldn’t find anything she liked. Until one day she was looking at an old family photo album and I guess was struck with inspiration. She used the original design that her father gave to her mother, which some minor additions, your mother was a stickler for originality. I remember slipping that ring onto her finger for the first time and falling in love with her all over again. Of course after that she lost the damn thing nearly every week, but it always found its way back.”

His voice was lower now. Stiles could hear him pushing back what sounded like tears in his voice.

“I couldn’t put it in the ground with her. It just felt like the only tangible piece of her that I had left. She wanted to pass it onto you whenever you found the right one to marry, someone that could fill your life with all the wonder that she brought to mine. I know that little ring can’t fill the hole in your life that she left behind, but maybe I think it will help you hold onto her.”

Stiles felt his body moving on instinct. He wrapped his arms around his father tight, feeling the tears stream over his cheeks and fall onto some place that he couldn’t see.

“Thank you.”

Stiles’ voice was muffled into fabric of covering the man’s shoulder. His father didn’t say a word, he simply nodded.

\---

Stiles heard a light knock on his door. He snapped the tiny box closed before telling the visitor to enter. It was Scott. He was about the last person he was expecting to see.

“Hey.”

Scott always sounded optimistic no matter how dismal that situation seemed. Not to say that Stiles’ room as a desolate place just that the salvation of their friendship was. Stiles made sure of that several years ago when they were freshman and first started to drift apart.

Both of the boys were invited to a party that some girl was throwing. Stiles couldn’t really remember her name or face but none of that information was necessary. All that mattered was the Allison Argent was going to be there. Scott had been in love with her as long as he could remember and he’d decided that tonight was going to be his night to make her his.

Stiles of course knew that it was a horrible plan. She was light-years out of his league. Allison was a star student with perfect attendance and an affinity for archery. Scott was, well, Scott was Scott. And being that he was Scott, he spent most of the evening lurking in the same room as her but never saying a word.

After about two hours of that, Stiles had had enough. He concocted the perfect plan. Stiles simply walked over to Lydia, who he’d then had a desperate crush on and told her the news about Scott’s crush. Lydia was one of Allison’s best friends. She had to have had SOME sway in her choice of boyfriend.

Lydia being the cupid that is announced to the entire party that Scott McCall had a huge crush on Allison. Scott blamed Stiles for the fiasco. They didn’t talk for about a week and then a series of other event happened after that, the most interesting of which was Stiles putting Nair in Scott’s shampoo.

Sure it wasn’t the most grand of reasons for them to stop being friends but Stiles likes to think that it was his choice to end the friendship. There were several opportunities for them to have made up over the years but he didn’t want to. He saw Scott as this pathetic little boy-child that never really lived up to his potential. All of his opportunities he squandered by shying away. The only smart thing he’d done in the last four years was keeping up with Lacrosse and making it to co-captain.

Looking at him now, Stiles didn’t really see who he used to know back then. Maybe it was the cathartic perjury of his hostility but all he could see now when he saw Scott was a ghost of a friend he’d once had. He did have his looks going for him, he would admit that.

“What’s on your mind Scott?”

This was the first time he’d actually said anything to the boy that didn’t involve him saying something particularly nasty. It caught Scott a little off guard.

“Uh, I just wanted to talk to you and see if you were okay. You know, with the whole us living here kind of thing.”

He was still the same old Scott, socially awkward and fidgety.

“Yeah. Yeah. I actually wanted to apologize to you and your mom for what happened at dinner.” He paused for a moment. “And I guess, really apologize to you for all of the shit that I’ve put you through or done to you or indirectly had happen to you over that past couple of years.”

Stiles could see that crooked puppy smile creeping over his face. Before he knew it, Scott was pouncing on him giving Stiles the biggest bear hug he’d ever had in his life.

“Ow! Okay I’m sorry! You don’t have to punish me! Oh god! Enough with the hugs!”

Scott let go and plopped on the mattress to take a seat next to him.

“I was hoping that we would be friends again someday.”

He nudged Stiles with his shoulder smiling. Stiles hated how infectious his happiness was. That was always something that he admired about Scott, his ability to make others smile.

“Well. I guess we have to if we might be brothers someday.”

Stiles turned his head to mutter something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I SAID, ifiwasgoingtohavesomeoneasabrotheri’mgladthatitwasyou.”

“That’s really the best I’m going to get isn’t it?”

“Yep! Now get out. I want to sleep off his headache that you’re causing with all of this affection.”

+++

Stiles had been asleep for about fifteen minutes before his phone buzzed. He didn’t even open his eyes when he reached over to grab the source of the noise reverting off of his walls. His vision was blurry trying to adjust to the bright light coming from the screen. Stiles clamped one eye shut hoping that it only hitting one eye would somehow ease the pain. It was a new text message.

“Why is everyone so into texting all of a sudden?” he mumbled to himself.

[ _1 new message_ ]  
 **Derek Hale:**  
Did everything work out okay?

Stiles didn’t remember getting his number or giving Derek his for that matter.

 **Stiles Stilinski:**  
Yeah. Thanks for the advice I guess.

 **Derek Hale** :  
Anytime.

Stiles stared at the screen for a minute. He dropped his head back onto his pillow and closed his eyes before the familiar buzz snapped his eyes open.

 **Derek Hale** :  
Let’s do it again real soon. I’ll even bring the snacks.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just the tip of the iceberg for what I have in mind for the series. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I did coming up with interesting ways to make the characters more abstract than they are usually. I'm hoping I made Stiles interesting enough to continue reading about what will happen with him later on.


End file.
